CHAPTER I
A WIND-BLOWN STRAW
"By the ten thousand virgins of Strassburg there's a Jew dog before the Roemer (Council house)." The speaker was a tall, stoutish built man, with bullet head, small eyes and a reddish beard, and mustachios of an aggressive type. On his short baize apron were some smears of flour. He swaggered along the street, clapping his hand to the dirk he wore.
"Hep, hep!" yelped a few lads running up.
"A Jew on the Roemerberg," gasped the first speaker. A little crowd had already formed. "Jew, it is not fair-time! Statte Alle, Holz und Zimmergraben bear not the Jew's feet willingly!"
"Jud mach mores! mach mores!" cried the crowd, "mach mores."
Cool, amidst the excitement of the threatening crowd, stood a young Jew, the object of this commotion. His dress was much like that of the burghers. Doublet and knee breeches, the gussets richly bordered, hose and shoes of fine quality. But for the yellow badge he might have passed for a nobleman's servitor, or attendant on the Court. His features were of thorough Jewish type, fine and chiseled, and the delicate texture of his dark skin was noticeable amidst the crowd of rough, blond, weather-beaten burghers. His raven black hair fell in long curls on the short cloak, which, despite the cold of the day, he wore open.
"A Jew! mach mores, hep!" The cries came far and wide, and the wide place was speedily thronged. "Mach mores!" but the Jew did not, as by law enjoined, take off his hat.
“Away with him to prison!”
“Fie! to the Bishop with him; he’s an irreverent dog!”
. "I am the Haman of the Jews!"" shouted the first speaker, laying hands upon . the young Israelite.
"Drag him to the trees outside the Judengasse and hang him high," shouted the apprentices—who, leaving their counters, had come to see the sport. They began singing a ribald feasting song.
“He’s a craven Jew,” said one.
"Ever saw ye a Jew with courage in him?"
"Says not the rhyme on the old bridge—the rhyme the Rat (Council) has covered up—that a Jew is equal to a swine; saw ye ever a pig that did not squeal when ye stuck him?" urged a burgher in sententious tones.
The hitherto motionless Israelite swung himself free from the grasp of his captor and put his hand to his left side.
"Ho! ho! is the Jew a noble that he should carry a sword? Ho! ho!" but the Jew had no such weapon, and, with a bitter smile and a sigh, he resigned himself.
"If a Jew dare fight, I'd lend him my sword willingly and stick his gizzard like a pig's throat the moment afterwards." The coarse jest was received with murmurs of applause.
"I am the Haman of the Jews; I found this Jew dog here; I'll deal with him," exclaimed the creator of the tumult.